


11.18 - Hell's Angel - Coda

by WomanInWhite



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 11.18 spoilers, Hell's Angel Coda, Season 11 Spoilers, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 22:11:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6677356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WomanInWhite/pseuds/WomanInWhite
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*SPOILERS FOR 11.18 AHEAD*</p><p>Coda for 11.18 (Hell's Angel)</p><p>After failing to retrieve Castiel from Lucifer's clutches and inadvertently pushing him further into the arms of the Darkness, things are looking bleak. But Sam thinks he knows a way to turn things around, if Dean is up to the task.</p>
            </blockquote>





	11.18 - Hell's Angel - Coda

**Author's Note:**

> Written quickly in the middle of the night with no editing. Please forgive any errors in grammar/tensing, whatever.

Rowena ditched them as soon as she got the chance. Crowley followed suit, without ever actually explaining the ‘hold’ Lucifer had on Cas. The Darkness disappeared with Cas and Lucifer and there was no telling what the consequences of attempting to kill her would be.

Sam is up almost immediately after Lucifer’s binding spell wears off, still trembling as he reexamines their sigils. They had warded the place top to bottom, hoping to keep uninvited guests from interrupting their summoning.

“Hey, do you think Lucifer could have affected the warding like he wore down the holy fire? Or maybe Amara got past it herself?” He’s crouched down on the floor where Lucifer had stood, observing where small flecks of holy water smudged the paint. “Dean?”

He looks up and sees his brother hasn’t moved a muscle. Dean’s eyes are unfocused, mouth slightly ajar in a look that puts Sam on edge.

“Dean!”

Dean finally meets Sam’s eyes. His mouth bobs once or twice in an attempt to say something, but he gives up, ducking his head down.

Sam goes over to him and says softly, “I know. I’m sorry we couldn’t get to Cas too.”

But it was more than that. Dean works his jaw, debating whether or not to say anything before finally shaking his head and standing up.

“Let’s just get home. We’re wasting time here with everything that didn’t work. We need to think of something else.”

“Dean, you don’t wa-”

“Sam,” Dean interjects, cutting off the conversation and heading out the door to the Impala.

* * *

 

It’s an 8-hour drive from St. Louis to Lebanon, and it’s a quiet one. Dean’s not in a talking mood, no matter how many concerned looks Sam gives him. The younger Winchester defaults to doing some research on his phone instead.

Dean is grateful for the quiet. A local rock station plays softly on the radio, and he can hear the slick sound of his tires skimming across the damp road. It’s familiar. It’s soothing. And it gives him the clarity to finally process what had just happened.

_Useless. Lucifer’s hold on him is too strong._

It’s what Crowley had said. Pretty much the only thing he had said.

But Crowley’s a demon, and a dick. He has every reason to screw with them. At least, that’s what Dean tells himself.

But he knows better. While he doesn’t much pity Crowley, Dean could recognize the fear and defeat in him when they had summoned Lucifer. Crowley tried his best to reach Cas, Dean knows, because being at the archangel’s feet again was a fate that terrified him.

And so Dean knows he has no choice but to accept his words as truth.

But Lucifer’s hold… What was Lucifer doing to Cas? Was Cas fighting in there? Unconscious? Dean doesn’t want to imagine any other alternatives. Cas is alive. He had spoken to him, even if only for a moment. He seemed confused. But not alarmed or distressed or anything like it. Yet he could hardly recognize Dean.

Dean’s stomach sinks. He hopes that Lucifer leaves Cas’ memory intact. He doesn’t think he could handle Cas forgetting him again.

Sam falls asleep on the ride home.

Dean prays.

* * *

 

Sam dumps their empty beer bottles in the bin in the kitchen. He starts heading to his room, but he pauses in the doorway of the library.

Dean is standing in the dim light of a single lamp beside one of the tables. He holds his nearly empty bottle of beer close to his chest and the fingers of his other hand are splayed, holding open a book on the table. His brows are knitted and his frown is tight as his eyes flit vigilantly across the pages.

Sam watches for a few moments, before Dean sighs and rubs his thumb and forefinger over his eyes, losing his spot in the book and seeming not to care.

Sam clears his throat before approaching, and Dean looks up at him, expression mostly unchanged before he closes the book and holds it up. “This one’s a dead end.”

He lets it fall with a loud thump on the table again before dragging out a chair and slouching in it, staring at the old tome like he wants it to open up on its own and show him something he missed.

Sam goes around the table and sits across from his brother. They’re quiet for a long time.

Sam likes this room. It’s mostly quiet, except for the mysterious low hum that always resonates throughout the bunker, brimming with some kind of force that Sam likes to think of as the magic of hundreds of sigils and spells coursing through the walls and keeping them safe. The lighting, the columns, the design all contribute to a studious, academic atmosphere that was soothing to him. The room held plenty of memories. Good ones, mostly. Devastating ones, too.

The room holds history, from way before either of them were born. Who knows if they would uncover all of the people and creatures that had walked through here. Or the discoveries that had been made.

In the few short years since they’ve lived here, they’ve really expanded the guest list. A prophet. A demi-god. The Queen of Moons and a reluctant legacy. A family of immortals. Angels and demons. The King of Hell.

Castiel.

Sam had seen the aftermath of the Stein’s visit to the bunker. The wreckage. The death. Broken furniture and a mountain of kerosene-soaked books in the brightly-lit space. The angel blade wedged in the leather cover of a book on the floor.

He didn’t see his brother, but he knew he was the one responsible for the angel, bloodied and listless on the floor.

He didn’t need to ask Cas what had happened. He silently brought the angel to his feet and sat him in a chair in an unscathed corner of the room. Because Cas hadn’t bothered to heal himself, Sam brought over a med kit and a chair and began tending to his wounds.

As Sam wiped away some blood from his cheek, Cas said hollowly, “He was trying to kill me. I… I was afraid he would kill me, that I would let him before I-” He stopped and met Sam’s eyes, unsure of how to proceed.

“But he didn’t,” Sam said.

Cas seemed unsatisfied with his answer. To this day, Sam can’t forget his quiet, “Why not?”

Sam held a hand to Cas’ knee, grounding him as he said earnestly, “Because of you. He could never kill you. He-” Cas stared at him perplexed, doubtful. Sam coughed and chose his words more carefully. “That you’re alive now proves that he’s still in there. He’s still in there, Cas, so we still have a chance to save him. This isn’t the time to be giving up.”

Whatever had happened between Dean and Cas that day had been a sort-of wake up call for the angel. Sam’s words were what ended up driving him to act and help find a way to remove the Mark, a last-ditch effort burning on the last dregs of hope they had left.

Fortunately, the plan worked.

Unfortunately, it brought them to where they are now.

Dean stares down at the bottle in his hands, that deeply distressed expression on his face that makes the hairs on the back of Sam’s neck and arms stand on end, that makes him want to find a way to wipe it away.

“Dean.” His brother grunts in response. “We’re gonna get him back.”

“That’s the plan,” Dean says, but without an ounce of optimism.

“You are gonna get him back.”

Dean scoffs, “Did you not see what happened today?” He lands his bottle on the table and shakes his head. “With the Darkness and Lucifer… we lost all our cards today. And I’m just about useless at this point.”

“Dean…”

“Nah,” Dean says flippantly. “I mean, I’ll fight. You know I’ll go down swinging. But the odds are stacked against me. Cas is with Amara now and I’m no help in this fight. Hell, I’m a liability. For all I know she could flip a switch in me to take you down if you go after her. I- I’m powerless to her.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, too,” Sam says, and Dean drops his head, ashamed. But Sam adds, “But after today, I’m not so sure.”

“What do you mean?”

Sam clears his throat and shifts in his seat, “All these years, and you’ve never once asked me about when Lucifer possessed me.”

Dean shrugs uncomfortably. “Figured it was a touchy subject.”

“Yeah. It is.” Sam agrees. “But it’s relevant. It could help.”

Dean holds out a hand, “Okay. Shoot.”

Sam takes a breath before he starts. “He’s… he’s smart. And selfish. Whatever he wants, he knows how to get it. With me, he was mostly just selfish. I… he made me watch everything. Just for fun. He, uh… He killed a lot of people I knew growing up. He killed Cas and Bobby.”

Neither brother liked to think about that day. They never talked about it, not like this. They felt helpless, and hopeless, and they were expecting the world to end. They had never had so much riding on them. And even the victory was bittersweet.

Sam shakes his head in disbelief as he says, “And then _you_ were there. Lucifer was beating- killing you. And you didn’t lift a finger.” His voice chokes up a little bit Sam continues, “I started to feel the walls coming down because… I dunno, because you were _there_ for me, _knowing_ you would die, and I suddenly felt like… like I could do something crazy like take control of the devil.” He huffs out a nervous laugh at that. Dean can’t even look Sam in the eye.

Then his voice goes soft. “The apocalypse was one thing. But the threat of losing someone who _loved_ me _that_ much… that’s what gave me the upper-hand.”

They’re quiet again for a while before Sam says, “You gotta be there for Cas now.”

Dean huffs and finally looks up, “What? Go die for him? I mean- I don’t-” He stops, considering the idea.

“No, not necessarily. I’m just saying, Dean, that you can reach him.”

“I tried,” Dean says, frustrated with himself. “Didn’t work.”

“Listen, Dean. Lucifer was selfish with me. He wanted me to suffer, so he made me watch. But with Cas, he’s being smart.”

“What do you mean?”

“Cas barely recognized us when we subdued Lucifer. Lucifer isn’t making Cas suffer because Cas is an angel. He’s stronger than me, so if Cas wants him out, it’d probably much easier for him than me. And seeing as you played a part in the last time Lucifer lost control of a vessel, he doesn’t want Cas knowing you’re around. Lucifer’s blindfolding Cas. He’s distracting him so he doesn’t have a reason to kick him out.”

Dean nods, “Makes sense. So how the hell do we get past that barrier?”

Sam shrugs, “Definitely won’t be easy. And mostly likely unpleasant or painful. You have to get close. Cas isn’t gonna hear you otherwise.”

Dean raises a hand, “Woah, woah, woah. Why am I being singled out?”

Sam sighs and looks him dead-on. “Think about it, Dean. Between the three of us, we’ve had our minds messed with about a dozen times. And how do we snap out of it?”

“I dunno. We kinda just… figure it out?”

“No. _I_ figure it out. When you were losing yourself to the Mark, when you were a demon, nothing I said made any difference. I could only research and hope for the best. But you… Dean, all you have to do is ask, and we come back to you.”

Dean scoffs, squirming in his chair, “No, that can’t be-”

“When Lucifer tried to kill you before the Apocalypse, I stopped him because _you_ were there. When Cas took on my trauma and lost the will to fight, he got it back because of _you_. When Naomi took over Cas and made him try to kill you, he stopped because of _you_. _You_ stopped me from the Third Trial in that church. Dean, you can do something that I can’t.”

Dean shakes his head. But Sam continues, “I’m too focused on the outcome. But you… when things get bad, when it comes to us, you stop caring about winning or losing, living or dying. We’re all that matter to you, and you show it. And it works.”

“Sammy,” Dean says, nervous and skeptical and embarrassed and a whole bunch of other things. “I… I don’t-”

“Dean,” Sam says, cutting him off and commanding his attention. “I know how much Cas means to you. But does he?”

Dean’s mouth bobs open a few times before he snaps it shut and avoids Sam’s stare.

“Dean, I’ve been tempted before,” Sam says, moving away from the subject and closer to why it matters. “When all I had were questions and misery, Ruby had answers and a fix. And looking back, yeah, it was a dumb, desperate move that I made because I thought it was the only move I could make. And honestly, when I was in the cage with Lucifer again… just like before, all I had were questions. He kept putting me down to make me feel like a failure, that I could fix it if I just let him in. I was almost tempted enough to say yes. I mean, my body, my life… small price to pay if it means saving the world. After all, I’d done it before. And I think that’s why Cas did it.” His voice softens, “He just wanted to help. And this was the only way he knew how.”

Dean, now visibly ticked off, barks out, “How exactly, has it helped us?”

“Like I said, Dean. It was probably a dumb, desperate move. He only did it because he thought it was the best choice.”

Dean’s anger subsides as quickly as it had come. The miserable, worried expression comes back to him. “But… but he had to know we’d never agree to this, to giving himself up.”

“It’s not about us agreeing or not. I listened to Ruby despite everything you and Cas had to say about it, no matter how hard you guys tried to stop me. I was convinced that I was doing the right thing, even if it was killing me, even if it was turning me into a monster. Cas is doing this because he thinks it’s the only thing he can offer.”

Dean just shakes his head and mutters, without anger, “That idiot.” He taps the beer bottle on the table nervously before saying, “But this plan of yours doesn’t solve the Amara problem though.” He runs hand over his face, his self-disgust obvious. “I don’t know if I can do whatever you’re talking about if she’s in the picture. Her hold on me… I can’t resist it.”

“You can. You _have_.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Yeah? When? You mean the multiple times I had the chance to try and kill her and could barely lift a finger?”

“Dean,” Sam says, smiling at him in that childish way that makes Dean feel like he’s mocking him. “You did it today.”

“But… nothing happened…?” Dean just looked at his brother, puzzled.

“Have you ever been in the same room together before today? You and Cas and Amara?”

Dean shakes his head, completely oblivious to whatever point Sam was trying to make.

“Well, Amara was there. And then you called out to Cas.”

Dean’s face starts to get a little hot and he says, “Yeah, lot of good that did.”

Sam asks with a hint of a smirk on his face, “Did you even take your eyes off of him to see Amara?” He chuckles, “She hadn’t anticipated that at all. She looked pissed.”

And, wow, Dean supposes he really hadn’t been paying attention to her, which comes as a shock to him. Whenever she’s around he can feel himself gravitating towards her.

“Why?”

“You said she could feel the bond you share, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, maybe she can feel the bond you have with Cas-”

“But I-”

“-and maybe she didn’t realize what she was up against.”

Dean’s face doesn’t seem to know what to do, his facial muscles shifting minutely under his skin in thought. Finally, he asks, “Are you saying she feels threatened?”

Sam sighs, “I hope so. She seems pretty obsessed about having you by her side. Lucifer seemed to think you’re an important piece of her puzzle too, back when he sent you back in time. I think she needs you. And if she doesn’t have you one-hundred percent, then you’re a chink in her armor. Maybe even the key to bringing her down.”

Dean swallowed audibly and muttered, “Well, that’s not the least bit overwhelming…”

“Anyway,” Sam says, “I think we need to get our angel back in our pocket. I think he can do for you what you’ve done for us. He can shake you out of whatever’s going on in your head.”

Dean’s eyes glance quickly over to the corner of the room before looking down into his lap, nearly whispering, “I almost killed him, you know. Back when I had the Mark.”

“I know. But you didn’t.”

Dean chuckles. “You really wanna play those odds?”

Sam shrugs playfully. “It’s the best chance we’ve got.”

They both smile and the gloom has been lifted, for now.

After a few moments, Sam smiles teasingly at Dean. “So, what’re you gonna say when we get him back?”

Dean dramatically throws his head back in annoyance. “This is so not the time, Sammy.”

“Then when?”

Dean gets up from his chair and cocks an eyebrow at his brother. “Let’s get him home first. Then we’ll talk.”


End file.
